Their Final Revelation
by Wisecrack Idiots
Summary: Seasons after SkyClan was rebuilt, an ominous message arrives, declaring that the Clans are dying at the paws of three mysterious cats. The fifth Clan is forced to pick up the pieces, not realizing that this is only the beginning of something far worse. This time around, failure isn't an option for the lost Clan.
1. The Deliverance

_"Echosong."_

Twitching an ear, the silver tabby rose dutifully to her paws. In place of an inky cavern mouth lay a sweeping expanse of night sky, chinked with random stars. She was graced with the presence of a clawlike crescent moon, dappling the gorge's edge with leafy shadows. Greenleaf at its fullest, irony at its fullest; the world she had crossed over from in her slumber had been battling leaf-bare.

Echosong's gaze skimmed the edge of the rock, resting briefly on a glittering patch of sky opposite of her. It shuddered slightly under the touch of her leer.

"Fawnstep?" she guessed, approaching the silvery, half-transparent apparition. "What news do our ancestors have for me?" A flinty glare shadowed her face. "Are you going to caress my ears with riddles tonight, or tell me where I can find some much-needed coltsfoot? Rockfall teeters on the border between your world and ours."

Fawnstep's breath caught in her throat with an audible gasp; for a moment, a silvery sheen rippled down the length of the ancestor's body. Slowly her full coloring spread down her limbs, replacing the frost in her fur with a full, light brown tabby pelt. Nothing about the former medicine cat looked intimidated or nervous now.

"Curb your tongue tonight," hissed Fawnstep, crouching until her belly scraped the rock ledge. "How_ dare_ you blame StarClan. We are not killers!"

Echosong snorted. "But you're not saviors, either." Her tail slapped over her paws, echoing loudly through the silent valley. "If I were not tradition-bound," she meowed in a fierce undertone, "then I would not have come. I have a cave full of patients to tend to, all of them labored in their sleep. Maybe I'd have more time to gossip if you could tell me where those cursed herbs are," she added, pricking her ears halfheartedly.

The other feline didn't rise from her offensive crouch. Did Fawnstep fear being mauled by her own flesh-and-blood apprentice?

"We are imbued with very little true power. Every cat of StarClan once shaped the world; then that duty was passed on to the next living generation following suit. Let the dead rest in peace." Fawnstep's chiding was sharp with the truth and regret.

Cold, mirthless laughter rent the air. Echosong's whiskers stopped twitching after a heartbeat. "I'm sorry." Her response was hardly sincere, but regretful nonetheless. "Could you tell me where...?"

"Let me soothe your unease," whispered Fawnstep, springing from her crouch to come and touch noses with the other tabby. "Rockfall won't be joining us any time soon."

"Thank StarCl..." Echosong's joyful reply faltered.

Fawnstep's eyes were glazed over, her fur drooping as if oppressed by summer's heat. Warriors ancestors shouldn't have looked as emaciated as Fawnstep did, but up close the truth was undeniable. The starry cat spirit was a shell of her former—former—self, ribbed heavily from chest to hindquarters.

Why hadn't she noticed before? Fawnstep was ill—sicker than any of her living Clanmates.

_The dead can't get sick_, Echosong repeated to herself. Beneath her pads, a dark chasm opened up, threatening to swallow the medicine cat whole. Its name was doubt.

"StarClan's dieing, isn't it?"

"Yes!" cried Fawnstep hoarsely, widening her stance. Her voice rose several octaves as the she-cat tacked on, "The other four Clans of cats stand on the brink of utter destruction! The three! The three! The sun-stealer who fractured the divinity of their powers has united a darker art, darker than anything Star...StarClan...could have prophesied..."

Gossamer strands of saliva pooled onto the rock face as she staggered; in a split second Echosong was at her side, nosing Fawnstep's flank with rough shoves.

"Get up! You must get up!"

Fawnstep's eyes misted over; from between her gritted teeth, foam spattered Echosong's pads. Death, like the scent of carrion on the wind, buffeted her face.

"Amass...the survivors...revive the destruction the hunted have endured. Predator has become prey... Echosong, their faith has vanished!"

"Who's?" stammered Echosong. Electric currents iced over every nerve in her body.

"The other Clans. That is whom. When StarClan falls, cats can't find the light... When no path guides their pawsteps to our ranks, warriors fade like cobwebs in a storm. They are ravaged by time, if left unprotected. StarClan collects and unifies the dead after this life. We protect Clan spirits, from kit...to...to elder...and now, their guardians are vanishing. Our separate coven of ancestors dies in response to their downfall."

Fawnstep's eyes found her; crazed, the she-cat begged, "Find the Clans, I beg of you! What is left of our diminishing strength will be harnessed to guide your paths."

"'Your paths'?" Echosong squeaked. "You mean _all _of SkyClan—"

"Leave this place." The quiet order cut across Echosong's question. "It was made safe; naturally, on its own, the gorge...is a deathtrap for SkyClan. Rats came once...they come again. This Clan...must journey...must rescue the other descendants...before the three slaughter them all. One is b-battle-driven, the second torn between destruction ultimatum and salvation, the third blind to truth and ignorant... O sun-stealer!"

_Sun stealer? The three? _"Clan cats are doing this?"

But Fawnstep merely shook her head; the gesture alone caused a silent caterwaul of pain to be torn from her stretched out jaws. Gasping and scrabbling at the rock face, Fawnstep begged one last time, "Rouse the others...I love you."

Her form split into dust particles, filling the air with chilling premonition.

Her eyes flying open, Echosong realized the shudder had been a byproduct of the cold; she was awake in the Whispering Cave once more.

Barely conscious of her beating heart, disregarding the limp in her left back leg, she crossed the darkened causeway and embraced the nocturnal sky.

Around her, minuscule heartbeats labored across SkyClan's camp. Echosong was sensitive to every heartbeat that belonged to each individual cat; as a medicine cat, her gift was sacred and honed through a line of spiritual felines learned in the practice.

The silver tabby was even aware that Leafstar's lives had dwindled down to a mere five; taken from sickness, battle, accident, starvation, and kit birth, of which none of the litter survived. The leader had only reigned for a few years.

Pebbles cascaded down the side of the Rockpile as she surmounted the top. Long shadows groped across the rocky ravine floor below her.

"SkyClan, come! I implore you!" yowled Echosong.

Her cry summoned her Clanmates like moths to a firelight: Sharpclaw, their deputy, supporting Clovertail on his right shoulder. The warrior was contaminated with a bout of whitecough, though not nearly as bad as her son's. Rockfall plowed behind her, herded by Bouncefoot and Tinycloud. Cherrytail's eyes shone in the gloom as she and her brother, Sparrowpelt, slid from a nearby cave. Petalnose—pregnant with Patchfoot's kits—accompanied her newfound mate and children, Sageheart and Mintwing. Though he was no Rainfur, his unquestionable presence during her period of grief at opened up exciting new possibilities.

At last followed Leafstar. Their leader was aging, but youthful in spite of strife. And just as reprimanding to any cat that she felt was a threat.

"Echosong?" Her raspy meow cut across the clearing space between she-cat and she-cat. "Why are you up there? Only_ leaders_ can call a meeting!"

For the span of what felt like lifetimes Echosong leveled up the Clan seated below her, their upturned faces changing from greedy hope to raw terror. Was the message on her lips written as easily across her face?

"Our ancestors have spoken," meowed Echosong, raising her muzzle toward the moon. "StarClan is falling, and we, their predecessors, must set forth into the wild and save what is left of our former rivals. Thunder, shadow, river, and wind—or die trying.

"We leave with the dawn."

* * *

**Author's Note**: This was inspired from the popular demand of a reappearance from SkyClan. Its end is a cliff-hanger, but until I get that far, here's the beginning of it. Personally, the idea of the five Clans reuniting after some terrible journey and the inter-mingling concept of "the three" has always fascinated me. Any guesses on whom the sun-stealer is?


	2. Ignorance, Innocence, and Interpretation

_Paw steps, voices weighed down with unease_, coughs and sneezes, the rattle of bare branches in the wind...

The sounds of travel preparation encircled the valley. Beneath cool pre-dawn shadows, cat shapes slunk between crags and caves, passing on news or readying themselves for the next phase of their journey.

"Burdock root, chervil, dried oak leaves, juniper, thyme, poppy seeds, yarrow, borage—"

"What could you possibly need borage for?" Cherrytail's voice rang from the den's entrance, cutting across the medicine cat's endless list.

Glancing up, Echosong welcomed the feisty tortoiseshell with a flick of her ear. "It's for Petalnose. If she kits during our travel, I want to have her milk come." With a dejected sigh she nudged the leaf wrap containing her meager herb store. "I can only bring so much with me. If only I had an extra head; I could shut the other mouth up by having it carrying my supplies."

Cherrytail's _mrrow _of laughter sounded hollowly in the enclosed space. Sand skittered across the cold floor as the warrior flopped onto her stomach. "If you had two heads, I would die of fright. That, or I would have clawed the second one off to set things in order."

Echosong pretended to spit crossly. "Cheeky mouse-fodder! I'd punish you for that in a heartbeat and yank out _every last whisker _on that smug face of yours." A restless pause, then: "Who can honestly say what's right now, after yesterday?"

Cherrytail lifted her muzzle slightly in surprise. "Am I allowed to actually hear about that sort of mystical medicine cat stuff? I thought it was taboo for regular warriors to know?"

"StarClan made it obvious we all need to share the journey together," soothed Echosong, once again fiddling with her caches; she was debating whether or not to include watermint or feverfew in her growing packet. There was a tart edge to her reply. "There is no shame in speaking with you about it."

"Oh. Well, then." Cherrytail dragged herself into a sitting position. In a single, gigantic breath, the she-cat poured out every question on the tip of her tongue: "Did they explain _what_ was killing the other four Clans, or_ how _to get there, or _why_? Why is our StarClan dying in response to theirs? What can we do about it? Is it dangerous? Will cats die? Are we going to see Firestar again?"

Cherrytail's eyes lit up on the last question; it was common knowledge among SkyClan cats that as a young apprentice she had padded after Firestar, even when his _mate_ was present. A crush, however; it was a crush that failed to be broken or diminished, even with the passing moons.

_She needs someone better for her_, Echosong decided. _But that's not really any of my concern, now is it?_

As the silver tabby opened her mouth to speak, a new voice spoke in place of the silence:

"I'd like to hear this for myself."

Leafstar stood silhouetted at the cave mouth, her amber eyes glowing discs under the heralding morning light. The stripes along her flanks, cream-and-brown, were veiled by the darkness.

In turn Echosong and Cherrytail bowed respectfully.

Pausing to put aside her work and to collect her thoughts, Echosong met Leafstar's challenging stare. Under her deputy's influence, the leader's forethought, kindness and wisdom had inherited a tiny edge that made Leafstar more precise in battle and politics. In return, Sharpclaw was less true to his name and calmer around adolescents. Despite being polar opposites, the two cats completed each other.

"I'll answer them in order, and as truthfully and as detailed as I possibly can." Echosong shivered; a stray breeze had entered the cave, carrying with it the teeth of a passing gale. "Fawnstep did not specify what was tearing our kin apart. She named four specific cats whom I believe to be Clan; three, each akin to one another or linked by some event or blood, and another Fawnstep called the 'sun-stealer.'"

_How can a cat steal the sun...literally?_ "To find the other Clans, Fawnstep promised me that our warrior ancestors would accompany us. 'What is left of our diminishing strength will be harnessed to guide your paths,' she told me. Somehow, they will bookmark each step of our progression with a sign or vision to make sure we do not go astray."

Echosong wondered bleakly, amidst the gap of her babbling,_ And who are the three?_ "As for why, I've no idea. Fawnstep described each of 'the three' briefly; something corrupted them, and they are—intentionally or not, I do not know—destroying the Clans."

The next part of her scrutiny disturbed Echosong. "Our warrior ancestors apparently 'die,' vanish altogether, no longer exist—something to that extent—when their followers' belief is tainted, and the bond linking the world between living and dead fails. Apparently, without a spiritual tribe of cats to belong to in the afterlife, in essence cat spirits..."

A hard lump clogged her throat, ending Echosong's wavering speech.

"We truly die." Leafstar's interpretation was stark with terror only thinly masked. "We cannot existin the next life without a collection of known entities to belong to. Am I right?" She tipped her head questioningly to one side.

"I'm afraid that's what our ancestors meant," meowed Echosong over Cherrytail's gasp. "And that is why we must go"—she turned her head toward the wild-eyed warrior—"in order to save what is left of both spiritual covens, collectively both of our ancestors, and save those whom are dying from entering...some nameless void. I can't foresee any known dangers other than the obvious, and with only precautions, death is beyond my foresight."

Leafstar filled in the gap between their conversation to distract their unease with a warm, light jest. "Only you would be mouse-brained enough to ask if we'd see Firestar. Quite possibly, if he's still in charge of ThunderClan. I mean," she corrected herself quickly, "if that old tom hasn't retired on his final life; he'd have to be a bone-bag by now!"

Cherrytail faked obliviousness to help cover up for Leafstar's careless slip: "You're probably right. He'll be a cranky old furball the next time we meet. Well, wish me luck. I'll need it in order to boss around the younger warriors and get them to salvage what's left of the fresh-kill. We're all going to be hungry."

With a good-natured snort, Cherrytail dispersed, her sleek form disappearing around the bend in the cave.

Leafstar and Echosong exchanged a long glance. In each other's eyes, they could read deeper into what had disturbed them both so greatly:

_Was Firestar already dead?_

_

* * *

  
_

**Author's Notes**: What can SkyClan do when their ancestors' powers, speech, and presence among the living is fading? Exactly how far has the threes' training progressed, might you wonder? By the way, the timeline is during _Eclipse—Long Shadows_, told from the SkyClan point of view.

Anyway, the next part is when they actually leave.


	3. Familiar Faces

_"Let all cats old enough to catch their _own prey gather below the Rockpile for a Clan meeting!"

Leafstar's summons rang across the ravine clearly.

Cherrytail hesitated in front of Mintwing and Sageheart, a paw half-raised and jabbed toward the meager pile of fresh-kill. "On second thought," she backtracked, resting her gaze on the younger cats, "I want you to divide that up between Clovertail, Petalnose, Rockfall and the two of you. Those who are sickest ought to eat that."

Mintwing and Sageheart swapped mutinous looks.

"Why do you get to give orders?" meowed Mintwing, shivering down the length of her spine as a frosty chill ruffled her pelt. "There are other warriors more senior than you."

"Yeah," Sageheart piped up, fidgeting in the wake of the cold front. "Like Sharpclaw, or Patchfoot."

"Tough." Cherrytail's whiskers twitched; recalling that the deputy was her former mentor, it was hard not to feel sympathetic toward being ordered around. "Leafstar gave me this job, and I'm doing it diligently. I'd recommend you both do the same thing."

Hating herself for still sounding too brusque, she added, "Next time _I'll _distribute the fresh-kill _and_ go over Echosong's pelt for ticks. Squared?"

"Fine, fine," Sageheart agreed hastily, ducking around Cherrytail with a vole clamped firmly between his teeth. "Let's just hurry up and get to the meeting!"

"Don't mind him," Mintwing murmured sympathetically as she passed. "I'll sort him out later. He's just touchy because he had guard duty last night, and he stepped on a thorn while hunting."

"I don't know which sounds worse: insomnia or infection. No, wait, don't worry about it!" Cherrytail called after the gray she-cat. "It's not a problem, really."

For a moment the she-cat scowled, as if she had just had her fun spoiled. Suddenly her bristling fur deflated, and she waved in farewell. "I won't." With a sturdy nod the she-cat broke into an energetic run that carried her toward the other end of the gorge, Mintwing's meager rabbit dangling down her front.

Cherrytail sighed up at the sky. "StarClan, I know that the other Clans hated us a long time ago, but do you have to be as prejudiced?"

"Talking to clouds gets you nowhere, and our warrior ancestors aren't biased. They're just dead."

The tortoiseshell nearly jumped out of her fur as Sparrowpelt trotted past her, on his way to the Clan assembly as well.

"Do you mind?" Cherrytail hissed, flattening her ears.

The warrior flexed his shoulders in a careful stretch, extending each leg in turn before grazing her ear with his muzzle. "I didn't mean to overhear. But I thought that I might as well calm you down. There's no reason for agitation, sister."

Reluctantly Cherrytail was drawn into the conversation. To her surprise the she-cat found her pads guiding her across the rugged valley toward the gathering place. "I find it difficult to be as optimistic as you are," she grunted.

"I'm not being positive in the slightest," Sparrowpelt replied with a sad shake of his head. "Merely...I'm trying not to get my fur in a knot."

Leaving Cherrytail to ponder on what he said, the dark brown tabby cried, "Come on!" and bounded after Mintwing's retreating form four fox-lengths ahead.

_I wonder what's on his mind?_ Cherrytail mused, as she slid in next to the pretty she-cat and her brother. She could hear, to her surprise, Echosong refusing Mintwing's fresh-kill.

"Filling Clovertail and Rockfall's stomachs with stringy leftovers will only worsen their unsettled appetites," mewed Echosong, turning away Mintwing's prey.

Mintwing took a step back, jaws agape. "Then how will they last the journey?"

"On medicine for traveling." The medicine cat gestured with her tail toward a leaf wrap of repugnant, nose-curling herbs. "Come now, dear Mintwing, did you really think I was going to let their stamina last on empty bellies?"

"I don't envy them," Cherrytail muttered under her breath.

Sparrowpelt spared the tortoiseshell a half amused, half chiding glance. Heat crept up her neck, along with a prickle of embarrassment.

_Sorry_, Cherrytail mouthed.

"Please, kindly see to it that our deputy gets fed. Sharpclaw's been overworking himself—again," sighed Echosong.

Before Mintwing had the chance to obey her orders, Leafstar's meow rent the crowd's din.

"We leave in a matter of minutes," the tabby began, surveying her Clan with a long, studious sweep of her head. "It was in the gorge we settled, after our ancestors—and for some of us, our predecessors—fell in the battle against the rats. We avenged their pride and legacy, restoring the word 'Clan' and engaging peace with everyday warrior life in this gorge. This place has been outfitted to us; we adapted well here. There can be no disagreement about that. But may I remind you that a camp does not equal Clan, nor will it ever; we share the burden and fierce joy of carrying our homes in our heart. Do not despair! This is a beginning, not an end."

"You say that," called out Patchfoot uncertainly, "even when we cannot be sure cats will survive? Where will we settle after this? Will we return here?"

"Even the best laid schemes of feline and Twoleg go often askew," Leafstar retorted. "I won't mollycoddle you with false promises and comforts. Your uncertainty is understandable." Leafstar's gaze briefly flickered to Petalnose, heavy with her unborn kits. Vulnerable. "I share your fears; the concerns of all cats of SkyClan are the leader's, too. Perhaps we will return, if we succeed. Remember, my Clan, we are _warriors_! We conquered rats, Twolegs, rogues, and plunged into our first leaf-bare together headlong as a new clan; we were triumphant once, and we can do it again!"

The powerful rise and fall in her speech stirred Cherrytail's heart with fresh hope. Somewhere in the back row Rockfall's raspy voice had taken up the cry, "SkyClan! SkyClan!" and she didn't hesitate to join in.

"SkyClan! SkyCla—"

A rough shove and startled hiss from Sparrowpelt cut her off.

"What was that for?" snarled Cherrytail, rounding on the tomcat with an indignant growl.

"Intruder," Sparrowpelt warned. His claws slid out of their sheathes in time to his roundabout turn. With his bristling haunches against her flank, Cherrytail felt vibrations ripple across his tense body and spread into hers.

"To me, SkyClan!" Sparrowpelt's battle cry sent his neighbors into a frenzy. As a whole they turned, teeth bared and tails lashing, with their backsides to the stone outcrop of assorted boulders where Leafstar remained mounted.

SkyClan was ready for the next stage of the adventure, _but will we get to see the start of it?_ thought Cherrytail.

Footsteps pattered over the frost-coated ground. Three cats, by the sound of it. Cherrytail slid into a hunter's crouch, her rump wriggling in the air as she prepared to spring.

Rounding a boulder at the edge of the meeting place, Oscar, Hutch, and Lichen prowled in tight formation toward her Clanmates.

Out of shock Cherrytail retracted her claws and scrambled into an awkward stance. What was going on here?

Leafstar gave a ferocious yowl that sent Cherrytail's hairs standing on end. The noise changed in her throat from a feral warning to joy as the tabby recognized the other she-cat and her former Clanmate, Hutch.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, skidding down the rock face with practiced ease. Leafstar carefully shouldered Sharpclaw and Tinycloud out of her path until she stood a tail-length away from the trio. "Oh." Her stride faltered for a heartbeat, and she quickly shook the disappointment from her face. "Oscar. Why did you come here?"

"Do not think I came to stop by for some gossip and fresh-kill," growled the black kittypet. His green eyes betrayed the dislike and contempt he had long ago declared against SkyClan, Clan cats and Clan life.

"Then what do you want?" Bouncefoot asked. His posture still betrayed the threat of attack.

Cherrytail swallowed the fear in her throat.

Lichen stepped forward with a pronounced cough. Her tail-tip swished awkwardly across the earthy soil. Weak morning sunlight spilled across her mottled pelt. "We want to talk to you."

"About what?" Sharpclaw asked suspiciously, taking a step forward. Leafstar shot him a warning glance out of the corner of her eyes.

"We've all felt...pressured...within the last moon to meet with SkyClan. There's a problem." Lichen took a deep breath. "I think the three of us must join your Clan, Leafstar."

"Join SkyClan?" Cherrytail whispered aloud. "But why! None of you—except you, Hutch"—she offered the dark brown tabby an inviting smile—"wanted to stay when we had the meeting during Firestar's stay!"

"_Firestar_." Oscar spat out the name. "I wish that ginger fool hadn't spread his nonsense faith here! It was nice, quiet and [i]peaceful[/i] before he and that scrappy she-cat arrived. Now I can't get a night's worth of sleep."

"That's not important, nor does that effect the situation at paw—wait." Leafstar's voice acquired a wary guard. "What do you mean by that?"

For the first time Hutch spoke. "All three of us have been kept awake for more than a fortnight with these terrible dreams."

"Nightmares, really," drawled Oscar,

"Shut up," Lichen meowed, clotting him over the head with a paw.

"Anyway," Hutch continued nervously, "I—I mean, w-we—don't know what to do. It's always the s-same one, with different variations, yet always the same ending." He shot Lichen a pleading look. "Help," he whispered fervently to her.

Lichen hesitated, then pressed her muzzle fleetingly to his. Oscar spat in the dirt with a disgusted noise. Cherrytail felt a tug of surprise blossom in the depths of her mind. _Since when did reclusive Lichen befriend Hutch?_

"Don't worry," murmured the slender she-cat comfortingly. Addressing her dumbstruck audience once more, the loner continued, "A cat composed of stars and mist begged of us to help. Every time it has been a different cat. The only one all three of us recognized we were able to verify as the deceased Moony."

"Skywatcher," Tinycloud corrected sharply. Her nose was crinkled. "His name was Skywatcher."

"Skywatcher, then," Lichen said tonelessly. The tempo and feeling in her speech returned again. "Every one of your ancestors implored that we help you. They looked...terrible. Like ghostly skeletons, or lost kits. I couldn't tell any of you which description is more accurate. But it _was_ terrible." Lichen twitched uneasily, casting Sharpclaw—a former loner too, Cherrytail remembered—an anxious stare.

Echosong gave Rockfall a quick lick on the cheek before she left her slumbering patient's side. "What you're describing to me," she meowed, "sounds like StarClan." Her gaze searched each of their gaunt faces, resting the longest on Oscar's. "Tell me...did any of them smell like us? Did these cats share our scent? And did you see a light brown tabby that carried a trace of medicinal plants?"

Spooked, Lichen shook her head a bit too quickly. "The description doesn't match. I'm sorry," she mewed, seeing the glazed over sheen to Echosong's face. "And some of them shared your scents. Others... How would you word this?" the she-cat asked Oscar with a sidelong glance.

Oscar turned away. He meow reeked with scorn and rudeness. "Old cats, _kitty_ cats, fish-smelling cats, lean kitties that looked like they could run miles and not get tired out, ridiculously muscled felines, and a few that shared the same...dark, creepy, penetrating glare"—his voice trilled with delight at look on Hutch's face—"that could send even badgers crying for their mothers."

Echosong nodded once. "I thought so. Our ancestors are _merging_," the tabby stated in a whisper that Cherrytail could barely catch. Raising her voice, the medicine cat meowed, "You are seeing traces of what is left of all five Clans' ancestors. I received a similar vision at midnight. But for outsiders to keep relapsing the same prophetic dreams..."

Awe wove between the realization in her insight. "Perhaps they wish for you to accompany us?" Echosong suggested lightly.

"What?" Oscar screeched, chaffing a pad on a sharp-edged stone.

Lichen jaw-dropped. Hutch seemed to stand on the verge of passing out.

"StarClan must be desperate. Or have bees in their brains," Clovertail remarked scornfully.

"Don't forget that seasons ago you and I thought the idea was ridiculous," Sparrowpelt reminded them thoughtfully, never taking his eyes off of the visitors. "Don't be too quick to judge."

"But Oscar?" Silently, Cherrytail agreed with Clovertail. Why them? Oscar would sooner eat mouse dung then join SkyClan; he'd made that clear. Lichen was doable, but shy around large numbers. As for Hutch... The dizzying image of Shortwhisker slashing at oncoming waves of rats momentarily eclipsed every other thought in her mind.

"I'll join."

Gasps drowned out Lichen's quiet declaration. Cherrytail didn't quite now _what_ to say, which was rare for the tortoiseshell.

"I believe that these emaciated cats are spirits in need of assistance. And I'd like to travel," the mottled loner commented.

"How—How did you know we were leaving?" Leafstar stammered.

Lichen twitched an ear. "Word travels. And I, for one, am not when to any creature suffer. If you have a plan, count me in." Suddenly her gaze twisted with an awkward touch; she eyed Hutch and Oscar curiously. "Would you come with me? These visions bonded us together, so surely they must mean something."

Hutch faced his former Clanmates. "I..." His tail twitched. "I...yes," he meowed, his voice steadying. "You're all in danger. And you're more than SkyClan cats, to me; you are my friends. How can I leave you to fight this alone?"

"Are you certain?" Patchfoot asked, crossing over to touch noses with Hutch. "You once told me that this was not your way."

"Who said that a pacifist couldn't change his mind?" purred Hutch, taking a step back to regard Patchfoot more closely. "I haven't let everything Sandstorm and Firestar taught me go to waste."

"Then we thank you—both of you. And what about you, Oscar?" asked Leafstar. "You're free to say no. We'd have no problem with that."

_She wants him to leave_, Cherrytail realized. The leader couldn't have been blunter about it; Oscar would hardly be wanted, even if he did choose to stay. Scratch that; even if he was _forced _to say, he'd be about as welcome as a dead fox.

"Why bother?" huffed Mintwing curtly, sniffing. "We already know the answer."

Her voice must have carried, for Oscar pricked his ears. Head raised, the SkyClan descendant met her unfriendly stare with a level one of his own. "Oh? Do you, now? Then what am I going to say?"

"'No,' obviously," meowed Rockfall hoarsely. Cherrytail blinked in surprise; she hadn't seen him get up and join the rest of the Clan.

Oscar gave a barklike laugh that rang eerily across the gorge. "Then I say you're all wrong. Dead wrong. I've decided to stay and join this ramshackle lot. And I've already chosen a name for myself," he added, swinging his broad head toward a flabbergasted Leafstar.

"My name's gonna be Eagleclaw. Take it or leave it."

"We'll take it," Leafstar responded courteously over the outcry of her warriors. "Welcome to SkyClan, Eagleclaw, Shortwhisker and Lichenface. Prepare yourselves, for we're leaving at once. Dawn has come."

* * *

**Author's Note**: Did anyone catch the _To A Mouse _reference?


End file.
